


Champion

by sweet_clementine



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Branding, Depiction of a burn wound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 00:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18767542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweet_clementine/pseuds/sweet_clementine
Summary: I am the Champion





	Champion

Voices whisper in her mind, most of them indistinguishable, others clearer. They’re easy for her to ignore for the most part. But now, they’re loud, gossiping of something glorious to come. What is was, she didn’t know just yet. It takes her while to fall asleep, but eventually, she manages to drift off.

Sleep does not last. She wakes with a sharp gasp, sweat and tears dripping down her face as she bolts up. Pain engulfs her left side. She sits up quickly and lifts her shirt and her eyes scan her skin.

Her stomach lurches a the sight. A blank handprint is burned into her side. The mark throbs and she’s clenching her teeth, trying to resist the urge to vomit. It’s disgusting, the skin around it angry and hot. This must be what the voices meant. But this seemed so far from glorious.

She leans over the side of the bed and rifles through her bag, pulling out her medicine kit. Normally she would have gone to Sarrali for help in this but the thought of showing the mark to anyone else terrified her. So instead she handles it herself. She spreads a healing balm over it and wraps the wound, hoping it would be better by morning.

She lays back down once it’s wrapped, taking several deep breaths and trying to calm the shaking of her hands and the rapid pace of her heart. It aches so bad and she wants to use a healing spell or potion but the voices turn soothing, they tell her she will be okay, that it will heal on its own.

The voices are a comforting presence. They’re soft and almost seem to hold her as she drifts back to sleep, almost like a parent holding their child. They tell her she will be okay, they sing her praises.

“Sleep, my champion…” They whisper as her eyes fall shut, heavy and tired. Yes, sleep sounded so nice.


End file.
